


Notes from the Dark Side of the Moon

by Amylion



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: A Few Feels, A little angst, And Vader's cape, Canon went out to get some cigarettes and never came back, Dysfunctional Family, Forced Family Reunion, Leia has all the sass, Mentions of Vader's poor health, Skywalker Drama, Vader being Vader, Vader's everyone's punching bag, can you blame her, gotta catch 'em all, post ESB
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27623554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amylion/pseuds/Amylion
Summary: When suddenly some of the rich and powerful of the galaxy begin to disappear and later turn up dead on a consistent basis, it worries both the Empire and the Alliance enough to open up an investigation. Only half-heartedly though, because there's also the matter of the war to distract them. That is, until Darth Vader disappears...
Relationships: Leia Organa & Darth Vader, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Comments: 23
Kudos: 161





	Notes from the Dark Side of the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> I know my canon. It's just not always convenient. That is to say, this story takes place post-ESB, but has a surprise guest who, canonically, did not... make it that far into the saga. 
> 
> This story was written for Angst Bingo, and my prompt was "Gasping for breath". You'll see I took that very literally.

“You know, I was prepared for a lot of things,” he says thoughtfully, stroking his chin. “I had accepted that despite my rather extensive research and thoroughness, I might fail and everything would be lost.”

The room is not overly large and the tall stone walls and cavernous atmosphere create the impression it is located somewhere far underground. He paces up and down its length.

“But I’m a bit of a collector, you see. And the Skywalkers are pretty high on my list. I just hadn’t expected at all to obtain de _pièce de resistance_ first. A pleasant surprise, but I’m almost disappointed at how easy it was. Apparently the stories about you are quite exaggerated. Something I privately suspected of course, but one can never be too careful. Your arrogance and conviction in your own absolute superiority are such…” he clacks his tongue in obviously staged disapproval, “… such unattractive traits. You never even saw me coming.”

He studies his subject carefully. Despite the poor lighting the prone figure on the ground is unmistakable. “And now,” he says with a slight smile, “two more to go to complete the series. I’m looking forward to it. ”

The man on the ground startles violently.

“In the mean time I hope you can forgive me for the rudimentary accommodations, and – Ah…” he interrupts himself in response to his subject’s sudden reaction to his words. “I see. As I thought. You didn’t know. Well. That makes it all the more fun. Oh, the suspense! But don’t worry. You won’t have to wait very long. Now, if you’ll excuse me… I have matters to attend to. I suggest you enjoy the peace. It can’t be too often a man in your position gets to take a break from his responsibilities. But you won’t have to worry about those again.” And with a dramatic turn he leaves his subject alone. Helpless and gasping for every breath, stewing in his resentment and anxious anticipation, only one thought is at the forefront of that mind: “ _Two_ more Skywalkers?”

The door closes with a resounding thud.

***

It had begun about a year ago. First an unassuming report briefly mentioned the mysterious and unexpected disappearance of a moff from a smaller planet in the Mid Rim. A few weeks later another one followed, from a neighbouring planet. The Alliance briefly speculated on what was going on, suspecting it was nothing more than one of the usual conspiracies among political peers and concurrents, a bid for power gone wrong. When five weeks later a third one disappeared, also from the same sector, and the three of them were briefly after found dead together, intelligence began to seriously look into it. Could it be the work of an as of yet unidentified rebel cell? Did they have a new ally, even if they used rather questionable tactics? It had been a matter Leia Organa was aware of, but only as one of the many things that vied for her attention on a typical day.

After that, nothing had happened for a while. Until the entire royal family of Velmor, that was well-disposed towards the Alliance, turned up dead. One by one they’d disappeared, months later their bodies were found, all in the same place. Something sinister was afoot. More and more similar cases followed, all had the same pattern: individuals disappeared one by one, then sometimes weeks, sometimes months later they were found dead together. There was no rhyme or reason to it, the only thing all victims had in common was that they had held positions of power – sometimes political power, other times financial, military or hereditary. Both the Alliance and the Empire had begun serious investigations into what now appeared to be a serial killer on the loose, one with a special predilection for the powerful and access to the rich and famous, as he’d succeeded in remaining undetected for so long while picking off high profile targets. But there was still a war going on, and the Emperor did not appear to be very interested in the case – rumour had it he considered it an unwelcome annoyance, that demanded his attention at a very inopportune time, which of course in turn left the Alliance’s nerves in tatters, because the Emperor planning something was never a good omen.

All in all, Leia hadn’t been very focussed on what was assumed to be an out of control serial killer at work. Until Darth Vader disappeared, and no one could come up with a good explanation. And if indeed the mysterious killer was the cause of his disappearance, who would be next? Vader’s only known direct associate was the Emperor. Speculation ran rampant, after a couple of days the Alliance spent a disproportionate amount of resources devoted to finding the missing Dark Lord, but without immediate success. A small sliver of hope kindled among the ranks of the Alliance, that burnt just a little brighter with every passing day Vader didn’t turn up. Ethics were always complicated during wartime.

So when in the middle of this feverish search action Leia was asked to go on an urgent but minor diplomatic mission, she was annoyed at the timing and distracted. As usual for these impromptu missions, she would read the briefing and do her research during the long hours in hyperspace, but her thoughts were otherwise occupied.

The journey took far longer than she would have liked, far longer than it should have in fact, according to the calculations she’d quickly run in her head. By the time they reversed to real space again she was tired, thoroughly annoyed, and suffering from a persistent temple headache. She looked out of the window. Strange. This was not what Brentaal IV was supposed to look like at all. For one, Brentaal IV only had one moon, not two. Just as she was about to get up and take up the matter with her pilot, the copilot entered the cabin.

“My apologies, your highness, but new instructions came through and we have been rerouted.”

“Rerouted? Where are we?”

“There’s… Some confusion on that matter for us too. But we’ve received the coordinates of where we are expected, so I’m sure we’ll clear it up in no time. Just thought you should know.”

How strange. Something niggled at her mind, it told her… A vague feeling that something was off. “Lieutenant!” she called after the retreating officer. “These orders… Who did they come from?”

“Directly from High Command.”

“Okay,” she nodded slowly. “Proceed.”

After they’d landed she briskly left the ship, mentally cursing High Command for their complete lack of straight information, but stopped short at seeing the welcoming committee. All her senses howled in warning at her now. A few paces from her ship, a single man awaited her, in stature and appearance rather unassuming, albeit remarkably well-groomed. But the uniform he wore was clearly Imperial in style. Her hand instinctively flew to the blaster she carried on her person at all times, but before she could draw it two strong arms grabbed her from behind. The bounty hunter’s grip was firm, and he dragged her away from the ship, positively manhandling her. She screamed in surprise and indignation at the unexpected rough treatment, then launched a litany of curses most men would have at least flinched at. Bounty hunters, however, aren’t most men. He was interested in one thing only right now, and that was his client’s handsome reward for his aid. It appeared the client had a personal interest in the Alderaanian princess, one that superseded the Empire’s. He could well imagine why that would be – with such a filthy mouth and temper to match it was easy to imagine how Organa had made her share of personal enemies. He slapped stun cuffs on her, then proceeded to drag her along.

“Leia Organa! Welcome!”

Behind her, the pilot and copilot who’d brought her here left the ship under their own power. At least one of them had the decency to look slightly regretful at her betrayed look.

“Rest assured, I’m not here on Imperial business.You are a guest here,” her captor said soothingly. “I have some information that will be of interest to you.”

He was charming and polite, really, she’d have trusted him, if she hadn’t been raised by politicians and could smell insincerity from a mile away. But he was good.

“Who are you?” she furiously demanded of her captor.

“You do not know me? You wound me, princess. We shall have to rectify that. I suppose you could call me a collector, and I’m extraordinary pleased to be able to welcome you here today, so I will let it slide for now. But I wasn’t lying: I have some information that will be of great personal interest to you. I’ve been looking forward to enlightening you.”

“I hardly need to be cuffed for that, now do I?”

“I must insist for now. Security measures,” and the regret in his voice almost sounded truthful. “If you would please follow me, I’ll accompany you to your accommodations for the duration of your stay here.”

Considering the fact she wore stun cuffs and the bounty hunter forced her to keep pace, she didn’t have much of a choice. Her brain worked at the speed of light, a million thoughts flitting through her mind. What did this Imperial want from her? Where was he taking her? Where was she? How did he –

“I’m afraid I’m all out of private suites, so you’ll have to share. I know that is unbefitting of a lady of your status, but I hope you’ll forgive me. At least your companion holds a similarly high rank, so conversation should come easily. Although you’ll have to do most of the talking. He seems to be a little… breathless.” He chuckled at his private joke.

After a seemingly endless walk her captor opened a heavily fortified door, and she was unceremoniously shoved inside. When she saw who already occupied the otherwise bare cell, she froze completely. Time stood still, the world – all the worlds – tilted on its axis. Because she’d know that iconic dark armour anywhere, and it took several minutes before she realised the door had slammed shut behind her. It seemed she had found Darth Vader. And only then did her captor’s earlier words come back to her, which had struck her as odd even as he spoke them, but she’d been too overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events to pay attention: _I am a collector_.

***

She should have trusted her feelings, should have commed to verify, should have been alarmed at the long journey in the first place, should have…Now she found herself in what appeared to be – _a nightmare_ – an antique prison cell. It couldn’t be real.

Many starless nights Darth Vader, or the idea of him, had haunted her dreams. The darkness. The darkness. The darkness. He symbolised everything she hated and feared and fought against. He was a black hole consuming planets and stars and people – and her soul. Was this a sick joke? Long after the heavy door had fallen close behind her, she just stood there, unmoving. But the scene remained unchanged, she didn’t wake up, and such a cliché, but she pinched herself – everything stayed the same. The darkness. In front of her, Darth Vader lay on the ground, his huge armoured form in a position that didn’t look natural or comfortable. He’d stirred at her entrance, but only barely. The most unusual thing, however, was that he didn’t wear the infamous helmet or mask, still she’d recognised him straight away. She was too far away to be able to discern his features. All she could see was the back of a pale – very, _very_ pale – hairless skull. He appeared to be manacled, like she was. She lifted her wrists, as if she noticed only now that heavy chains dragged her down, old-fashioned, thick, steel chains; his connected to the wall opposite the one her own led to, although his inertia seemed to suggest they were an unnecessary precaution, and… There was something else too, something else that was different about him, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it right now.

The unworn mask and helmet stared at her from a small distance, where neither he or she could reach them, limited by the chains. Empty and separated from their owner, the forbidding headgear made for a macabre vision, that somehow shook her deeper than the sight of Vader’s unmoving shape itself. A shiver ran down her spine and her breathing quickened just a little, before she averted her eyes and directed her stare back to the brought down Imperial warlord himself. Eventually – could have been minutes, or an hour, or more – she cautiously, inch by inch, moved further into the cell, as if he could jump up and tower over her any minute. Nothing happened. Gaze still fixated on him, moving as silently as she could and pressed against the wall, she eventually gripped the uneven stone bricks’ joints tightly with her fingers to hold up her weight as she lowered herself inch by inch. Huddled against the cold, cold wall opposite him, about three metres away, she continued her quiet study of the fallen Dark Lord. And only when it began to subside, she noticed she’d been trembling violently.

From this distance she had a better view of his face. She’d never even thought of the fact there would be a face hidden behind that mask. Vader had been the mask to her, as to countless other sentients. He was human alright, although he was so pale and badly scarred he barely looked the part. If she’d ever doubted the functionality of the mask, that ended now. He wore a clear breath mask over the lower part of his face, but it didn’t seem to do much for him. She’d heard it from the moment she’d entered the room, although that first look at him had her so shellshocked she’d barely registered it: his weak, laboured breaths that echoed loudly in the empty stone-walled room, ragged and sounding all too superficial. Perhaps in her shock, she’d subconsciously timed her breathing to his – too fast for healthy lungs. Hyperventilating. You’re hyperventilating, she told herself. Calm now. Slow. Slow down. Down. Calm. His presence and proximity had her more rattled than she liked in a situation where she clearly needed all her wits. It took long minutes before her heart rate began to slow to an acceptable pace.

To study the Dark Lord, whose visage was as much of a mystery as his supposed strange powers. The armour gave the impression of invincible strength. Ruthless and inhuman, untouchable and invulnerable. And she knew all of that was true – except for the last two predicates, apparently. Also the Dark Lord: incapable of drawing breath unassisted. Currently completely powerless, not a trace of those mysterious powers now. How was he brought down? This was the military strategist in her, cataloguing her greatest enemy’s weaknesses.

Just as she began to wonder if he was even conscious, he moved. If she hadn’t kept her eyes trained on him as firmly as they were, she might have missed it. One of his hands balled into a fist, was still again for a moment, before he slightly lifted his upper body and manoeuvred himself so that he could look at her from his position on the floor. It took him a tremendous amount of effort. She forgot to breathe for a second, until he was utterly still again, except for the sound of his own breathing, as loud, if not louder, as before. And then he opened his eyes and looked straight into hers, and she lost count of how many shocks she’d had to her system today. They were a clear blue and dominated his disfigured face, but most of all she was struck by how incredibly human they made him look. He didn’t say a word, just continued to stare at her fixedly in complete silence, and perhaps she was imagining it, but those eyes had widened fractionally at seeing her. She wondered what she would look like to an invisible spectator right now: a small, girlish figure, back hugging the wall, face drawn and eyes wide and afraid, but unable to look away from the blue gaze that kept hers locked in that unfathomable stare.

He didn’t blink, didn’t look away, and it was very well possible princess and fallen Dark Lord sat there for hours in absolute, unmoving silence, both isolated in their respective feelings. Hers: terror and a steadily pulsing undercurrent of anger, she’d later answer if someone were to ask. His: were anyone’s guess. The fact was, she startled violently from a sudden noise coming from outside. A platter of food and water was shoved inside, and the sudden intrusion broke the spell.

She stood up, stiff from the cold floor and lack of movement, and keeping an eye on him she walked backwards to the deposited food, studying it, but opting to ignore it for now as nausea rose up in her at the mere thought of eating. A distant part of her brain found it interesting to note Vader barely moved or at least didn’t take the effort to follow her movements. That did say something about the state of her enemy. If she found a way to escape, he wouldn’t form a threat at all. Out of his sight for a moment, no longer caught in that intense gaze, she found it easier to concentrate and the terrifying reality settled in: she was locked in a cell with Darth Vader, who was clearly not here of his own volition, weak as a kitten. In fact, she bet that if she were to kick him right now, he couldn’t do very much to stop her. Maybe she should for good measure. Then again, she’d do well to remember not to underestimate her enemy - that scarred, sad face, those blue eyes had also been behind the mask when he held her in his steel grip when her home was blown up, nothing had changed in that regard. But there was something compelling about those eyes, they looked –

No. Don’t go there. The facts. Stay on the facts. And the fact was… The fact was that Darth Vader had been missing for days now, and everyone had agreed his disappearance seemed to fit into a pattern, a pattern indicating a serial killer at work, who made it a sport to get matching series of people. But she and Vader didn’t match. And yet… That weird little man had called himself“the collector”.

“Why are you here?” she asked. “Why am _I_ here?”

When he didn’t answer she walked back to her earlier spot and sat back down. Immediately his eyes found hers again, but he made no move to answer her questions. Maybe he couldn’t even speak without the mask, she thought, and was entirely dependant on subvocalisation technology. Or he didn’t deem to speak to her, the rebel princess. She rolled her eyes.

“Do you know who he is? That man? He wears an Imperial uniform, so he’s clearly on your side.”

A nearly imperceptible nod from Vader. Her eyes widened. So he was willing to communicate.

“What? They finally got enough of you? And now some random guy is out for a little revenge?”

A shake of his head. No.

She was quiet for a while, then – “The collector?” she asked seriously. “It’s true?”

A nod.

“But that makes no sense. I mean, he always gets people who have something in common. Most recently an entire company board. Or… people belonging to the same chain of command. Family members,” she listed, mentally ticking off the boxes of his past victims.

For the first time since she moved in his line of vision, Vader looked away. She narrowed her eyes. “You know something,” she said slowly. “Don’t you? Oh yes. You do. You know why I’m here? Is that it?”

Perhaps he flinched, just a tightening of his mouth, maybe a nearly imperceptible shiver running down his frame.

“It is,” she concluded, and impossible as it seemed, the predator had become the prey under her sharp look. “Out with it.”

She quickly became impatient at his lack of response. “In case you haven’t noticed, neither of us are in an ideal situation and there’s a guy who’s about to kill us. Any information you have would be most welcome,” she said sharply.

He looked at her again and beneath that breathing mask his lips moved, but talking and inhaling did not go hand in hand. A second attempt resulted in a coughing fit that had her briefly concerned any serial killer’s services would be unnecessary. She very nearly felt something akin to compassion as he choked, but when her eyes wandered to the mask and helmet in the far corner her heart hardened immediately.

“As a reminder, talking only works while breathing out,” she said impatiently.

“Krennic,” Vader whispered after a few more failed attempts, though none of those seemed to put him into acute pulmonary distress, there was that at least.

“What?”

“His… name. He used to… director of military scientific innovation. Demoted.”

Vader was hard to understand. He spoke barely louder than a whisper, stumbled on his words and slurred some consonants, and so it took a few seconds before she’d gleaned together the meaning of what he said, but when she did she stiffened.

“The Death Star…” she whispered. “I remember now. He led its assembly, didn’t he? He led the project?”

Vader nodded.

“And now he’s… What? Killing people? To make up for the power he lost after he was transferred to… some Outer Rim planet, wasn’t it? To feel that kick again? So is that it? We are here because of the Death Star? We both survived its destruction…” she mused. “It’s a bit farfetched, but I can imagine it works like that in the brain of a guy like him. And putting you and I together, sworn enemies, the idea alone would get him all excited.”

She didn’t see Vader closing his eyes, because she was staring at the ceiling while she let her thoughts run free, so Leia Organa had no idea how wrong she was. And how little desire Vader had to correct her.

***

She was shivering uncontrollably. It was freezing cold, she was exhausted, but between the cold of the stones seeping into her bones, the lack of comfort, the fear of what would happen next, and Vader’s unrelenting wheezing she found it impossible to find rest.

“Leia.”

She startled, thought she’d imagined that hoarse whisper at first.

“Leia.”

She sat up from her slumped position against the wall. It was dark, so dark in the cell, darker than it’d been earlier. Emergency lights only, her tired brain supplied. So it was night. But despite the darkness she could see Vader was fully awake and alert, and looking at her.

“Take my cloak,” he said. “I don’t… don’t need it.”

“What?”

“Take it. Warm. It’s warm.”

She looked at him disbelievingly, but he said nothing else, and cold as she was she eventually crept forwards, like a shy animal approaching the beast that could eat her, drawn out by the promise of food. She sat on her knees beside him, right next to him, hovering uncertainly over his unmoving form. It was weird and counterintuitive, to be in Darth Vader’s personal space. From this close she could make out the wrinkles by the corners of his eyes, the startlingly deep gashes that looked like his skull had been brutally cleaved in half, the countless other scars, most of them old, that looked like they might limit the formidable range of motion faces ordinarily have; to smile, or cry, or look up in wonder. Vader seemed just as uncomfortable about her proximity as she was. He’d called her by her name, she realised. Not princess, but Leia.

He lifted his arm, brought it to his throat, and that’s when she saw the small, hidden clasp. With deft fingers she quickly undid it.

“You’re partially lying on it,” she pointed out. “Can you–”

With slow movements Vader turned himself over on his side, which left him even more winded than he already was, so she could with careful fingers and firm pulls get the remnant of the cape that was still trapped free.

“You know… you’d probably breathe a lot easier sitting up against the wall,” she offered, as if to return something of equal value to his offer, because owing Darth Vader was absolutely unacceptable to her. But he didn’t reply, which made her feel supremely uncomfortable, sitting there awkwardly with a bunch of heavy fabric in her arms (it really was heavy, not just your average synth thread then), not quite sure of what to do next. Of course he’d thought of that himself, she thought, and he probably didn’t manage. How did a little man like Krennic manage to bring down Darth Vader like this? It felt wrong.

“I could help,” she offered.

“How… strong are you, princess?” he inquired, not entirely without amusement.

Well. He did look heavy, that was a good point, and did she want to touch Vader? Just now, her hands at his throat, near his naked face, she’d failed undoing the clasp the first two tries because of her nervousness, the third time one of her knuckles had very nearly brushed against his skin - maybe she had really touched him then, featherlight, maybe it was her imagination, she couldn’t say.

“Leave it,” he said. “Try to sleep. You are… safe for now. He won’t come.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do,” he said after a moment’s silence. “Trust me.”

Before she could snort he amended his own words: “In this. For now.”

And so she crawled back to what had become her own piece of wall and wrapped herself in the heavy cloak, and it was so warm, so warm, its weight an unexpected comfort, and perhaps she really did sleep, yes, she really did, because when she woke up there was the faint memory of a dream, in which she _had_ touched Vader’s face, and she wondered about the significance of that.

***

Leia was still wrapped in Darth Vader’s cape, secretly glad he hadn’t asked it back, because the warmth it provided was most welcome. “He said he had information for me. Not for the Alliance, but for me personally. Something that would interest me. Do you think that was true?”

He didn’t always respond. Talking tired him out quickly, but she also suspected he simply didn’t know how to hold a conversation. Darth Vader was a man who gave orders on the battlefield, not the type you shared the latest gossip with or talked to about that holo show you’d been following religiously (she tried to imagine Vader watching cartoons, and wasn’t that an entertaining thought. With nothing much else to do, a girl had to come up with ways to entertain herself somehow). It was rather surreal to be talking to Darth Vader at all, and especially when he didn’t answer for awhile Leia quietly wondered if she was going mad.

Just then, food was delivered again. She jumped up, studying the contents of the tray. The prolonged captivity was making her feel antsy. She wanted to move, get rid of her nervous anxiety through physical activity, she wanted to exert herself and hope it helped calm down the storm in her head. There was water, which she drank greedily, and some kind of porridge she didn’t recognise but that didn’t taste too badly. Vader hadn’t expressed any interest in either food or fluids so far.

“Do you want some water?” she asked tentatively.

He didn’t give any indication he heard her. Sighing, she put down the glass again. He probably had other means of hydrating. She didn’t know how that would work anyway, considering the oxygen mask. Eventually she sat down again. “So do you think it’s true?” she asked again, returning to the previous topic of conversation, but again, Vader didn’t answer.

“Hello? I’m right here.”

“I hear you. I simply… have nothing… to say,” he rasped.

Leia sighed deeply. “I don’t know what I expected,” she muttered. “I hoped you could act like a normal human being for just a moment.”

“I am not… a normal human being. Neither are you.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know _me_.”

“I do know,” he simply replied.

“And why’s that?” she challenged, rolling her eyes at that weirdly arrogant statement. But of course he remained stoically silent again. “You said he wasn’t going to come last night. How did you know? You know something you’re not telling me.”

“Princess… Please,” was all he said, before he closed his eyes again, effectively shutting her out.

If you’d have told Leia Organa a week ago she would feel insulted because Darth Vader essentially told her she talked too much, she’d have cut off such a statement with a razor sharp Don’t be ridiculous. She wondered if he hadn’t been Darth Vader if she would have liked him. He was so ill-adjusted to normal social company it was hard to say anything at all about his personality, but he had given her his cape, an unexpected and oddly considerate gesture. As she looked at his battered face, a worried frown permanently etched in the hard lines of his features, it was hard to imagine this was the same man who’d commanded the droid to inject her with ever more thiohexide, which had left her nervous system in overdrive for months, causing severe shooting pains at the most inopportune of moments. And she wondered what that face had looked like underneath the mask as he looked on in silence when her Alderaan was blown to dust. She would hate him again when the mask was put back on, she decided, ignoring the cognitive dissonance in that decision, but right now he was all she had in this dark hole. All she could count on. Although… Perhaps she was imagining it, but she got the impression his breathing was getting more ragged as time elapsed, and he’d become even less mobile since her arrival. How much longer would he hold up? Was that a sliver of worry she felt, as she considered her sworn enemy’s weak state?

***

Even though the lights went out at night and food was delivered at regular intervals, Leia still lost track of time. She was not used to sitting still with nothing at all to attend to. The days blurred into each other. Perhaps she’d been here a week now, she estimated, could be a little more or less. She’d reached the point where it was hard to distinguish the days and reality and dreams from each other. Unable to wash, she felt filthy, permanently exhausted and she was currently living in Vader’s cape, which wasn’t all too fresh anymore either, as it had been demoted (or promoted?) to permanently serve as either her blanket or tent.

At times, when she tried to sleep but didn’t manage, she drew up the cloak to cover her face, its weight solid enough to ground her, and in that dark enclosed space she could forget the rest of the world and focus on the calm sound of her own breathing. She tried to pretend she was alone and was safe, and her thoughts were free, she could travel anywhere she wanted, and she’d see the dark nights in the winter house on top of the mountain on Alderaan again. The cloudy nights when the stars weren’t visible and it felt like the sky was so close, so close she could touch it. Sometimes she woke up at night, woken by a dream or nightmare or something in between, and went outside and walked through the cloud covered world, everything wet and freezing cold, but the silence was magical. At those times she felt like she was all alone in the world, the only living thing left, but she knew that if she went inside again, her mother and father were there. It had become morbidly true, she thought morosely, she practically was Alderaan’s last thing left alive.But right now, safe in the dark she could in her thoughts bend down and scoop up a handful of snow, feel the cold. She loved to press her lips against it, the momentary shiver and her own body heat and the world’s cold reacting to each other, a small acute shock of reality.

Those were the nights. The days were marked by meals and the occasional conversation with Vader. He was not exactly the talkative type, but he did keep his eyes on her at all times. Only once did he initiate a conversation himself, and that one time was so weird she at first hadn’t known what to respond at all, and then kicked off their first actual fight – come to think of it, it was a miracle that hadn’t happened any sooner.

“What was your childhood like? As a princess?” he asked.

It was so unexpected she wasn’t quite sure how to react. “Erm… What?”

Vader seemed surprised at himself too. “Forget it,” he said quickly, uncharacteristically.

“You want to know about my _childhood_? What, nothing about the Alliance? No rebel secrets? I could tell you about our new base, if you like,” she said sarcastically.

“Earlier you seemed so eager to talk.”

“It’s very nice this time of year. Better than the last one you destroyed. More space for everyone too. Of course, that’s also because after Hoth there were a lot less people to fit in. I heard there are entire Wampa colonies sprouting up there now, the unexpected food supplies they don’t even have to hunt for really did wonders for the species. Oh, the miracles of nature!”

“You’ve made your point.”

“No, I don’t think I have just yet. I’ve only gotten started. We could also discuss, well, let’s see… That time you took time out of your busy schedule to torture me, or how you froze Han and shipped him off to god knows where. Any of the times you tried to kill me and my loved ones, any of the uncountable war crimes you seem to fill your days with. You stood by as my childhood home _and the planet it stood on_ was obliterated, and now you want to discuss my _childhood_?” Angry tears had formed in the corners of her eyes. “You know what’s kept me awake at night the past few days? The thought that it might not be a bad thing for me to die here, if that means the galaxy is rid of you. And that actually was a comforting thought.”

Vader didn’t answer, and she liked to think it was shame preventing him from speaking, but she wasn’t sure if a man like him was capable of it. She was about to launch into another diatribe, far from finished, when the door to their cell opened, and just when she thought this day couldn’t get any worse, Krennic entered.

“Bad timing?” he asked as he took in her dishevelled state. “I could come back later, that is, if it wasn’t for the fact that I brought a guest.”

Then everything _really_ went to hell.

***

Because escorted into their shared cell was none other than Luke Skywalker, and Krennic’s grin widened at her stunned reaction.

“Luke?” she asked, dumbfounded.

Simultaneously he said: “Father?” His gaze was fixed on Vader, who looked at Luke with the same intensity. She’d learnt to read his strange face somewhat the past few days, and he looked anguished.

What, _what exactly_ , what had Luke just said, _what_ was that? Father? _Father_? Had she gone well and truly mad and was she hallucinating now?

Judging by Krennic’s face, who appeared to be having an excellent time, she wasn’t.

“Son,” Vader said, that hoarse whisper of his even quieter than normal.

She gaped at the two of them openmouthed, expression frozen, but inside she was screaming, because her best friend, who should not have been here at all, had just arrived and had eyes only for the Dark Lord, and he’d called him, without hesitation –

“At last,” Krennic interjected (how she’d love to punch him in the face). “At last reunited. One happy family.”

She’d had this theory they were here because of the Death Star, which had been the height of Krennic’s career, but she felt the earth slip from under her feet at these terrible, terrible appellations Luke and Vader had just uttered.

What did that mean for her? What was she doing here? She didn’t belong in this constellation. What did Krennic mean, one happy family? _She_ wasn’t. Why did he suddenly look at her and feigned shock, then said, all too silkily, softly, slowly, enjoying himself way too much. “Oh my. My Lord Vader. You didn’t find the time to tell her? Here I thought a few days of quality time together would have solved that particular problem.”

Vader told me nothing, she wanted to shout. I asked and asked and he didn’t say a thing. And that was a good thing, because whatever it is you’re going to –

‘Oh princess. Poor, poor princess. It crossed my mind that the sudden destruction of your home world and all of its records may have prevented you from learning of your birthright and background. It’s a good thing the Empire found in your parents’ effects some crucial, top secret records too, and I was fortunate enough to access them.”

Luke’s gaze went between her and Vader and Krennic, looking utterly confused.

“I told you I was collecting Skywalkers. Now I’ve got them all,” and with a satisfied grin Krennic let that bombshell sink in, taking in their stunned faces before he left, the sound of the door falling closed very loud, and Leia would hear its echo for a long, long time. Possibly forever.

***

“Is it true?” That was Luke speaking, but she interrupted him.

“What did you just call him,” she asked dully, nodding in Vader’s direction.

He had the decency to look away for a moment.

“Have you always known? Did you fool all of us?”

“No!” he protested. “Leia, no! I would never… I learnt of it not all that long ago.”

“Cloud City?” she guessed. “You were different after that.”

Luke nodded. “I couldn’t tell you, or anyone. It was…”

She didn’t need him to finish that sentence, she could imagine very well what it was. She was more or less going through it herself now. “What about me? The two of you are here together for obvious reasons.”

At that, Luke looked questioningly at Vader too.

“Twins,” he finally said, sounding incredibly tired. “You are brother and sister.”

For once she had nothing to say, she just stared at the both of them.

“We are…” Luke began, then stopped again. “Leia?”

It was utterly surreal, she couldn’t believe this was happening. “You knew all this time?” she asked Vader, and when he didn’t speak she crawled towards him, fast as a viper, leaving the cape in a jumble at the spot by the wall where she’d sat. “ _You knew_?” she spit out, leaning over him.

He couldn’t look away now as she leant over him, fire in her eyes.

“You knew all along and I asked, and you didn’t say? Is it true? _Is it_?”

“Leia…” he began, “I did it… didn’t say for _you_.”

“When I’m going to my death it’d be nice to know why that is exactly,” she bit out. “Or were you too much of a coward, and didn’t want to explain why we had to die for your sins? How is that even possible? You have no decency whatsoever, do you? You are unbelievable! I never did think highly of you but with every action you take you sink lower and lower in my esteem. You’re _despicable_! And let’s be clear about one thing: you’re no family of mine, least of all my father.”

He looked up at her with those blue eyes – and _stars_ , they were exactly the same as Luke’s, that’s where she’d seen them before, and that look, like a kicked puppy, that’s where Luke got it and _damnit_. Why did she have to be dragged into this mess. Angry and helpless she punched Vader’s upper arm, only half-heartedly, but once she got started she couldn’t stop, and she hit him again, and again.

“Leia…”

And then Luke was right next to her, embracing her, and she held on to him like he was her last lifeline, and good god, she was really crying now, positively sobbing, this impossible thing she’d just been told wasn’t even all that weird compared to what had happened the past couple of days, it felt like the impossible release of something that had been building up for days now, something she had felt coming, like the ozone that heavily hung in the air before a thunderstorm broke loose.

“Did you know?” she asked Luke, and how could he look so earnest still, so honest and innocent when he gripped her by the shoulders and said: “When he told me on Cloud City I wasn’t sure I believed it straightaway myself, you know. Everything I ever believed in… shattered. And I was afraid you, my best friend, would hate me. But I didn’t know about you. I never would have kept something like that from you. Please believe me.”

“Of course I believe you, I always believe you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t immediately tell you. Saying it out loud meant also… for me…”

“Accepting it?” she asked quietly.

He nodded.

“I really didn’t know about you,” he repeated lamely, and she couldn’t help but smile, because now it was so obvious and his clumsy attempts at offering comfort utterly endearing, and maybe that’s why it worked. 

Vader, however, Vader had known. “How long?” she asked sharply – Stars, it seemed like every other word she spoke to him she raised her voice – “How long did you know?”

“Krennic said it… I suspected it was true. Didn’t know for sure. Then I… looked at you and–”

“And what?”

“I knew. It is unmistakable.”

***

Unmistakable. What did he mean by that? What did that say about her?

Who was she? What unfathomable depths she didn’t know yet hid inside of her?

***

Everything was different with Luke by her side, she was less out of her depth with him around and things seemed just a little more normal. Hanging out in a cell with Luke Skywalker was, well, not an entirely new experience for the both of them. In their short career as rebels it had happened more than either of them would like to admit so far. His arrival even sparked some joy in her, because the two of them against the world was a familiar theme, it restored some normalcy to an otherwise outlandish situation.

On her own she hadn’t stood a chance, but the two of them together were strong enough to lift up Darth Vader and haul his immovable bulk to the other side of the room, so he could sit up against the wall and hopefully breathe a little easier. She hated him with a newfound passion, but while it was the tree of them together in here, she had to admit it was in their best interests to have Vader as well as he could possibly be. Which was why she and Luke now stood opposite each other, Vader between them, and they each grabbed him by an arm, and holy mother of god –

“You’re _really_ heavy,” she grunted, but it worked: inch by inch they managed to heave Vader’s body forwards. As he was dragged across the cell, he stonily looked at a point at the wall, avoiding his children’s eyes. It wasn’t exactly an elegant operation, but it was effective at least. A minute later they had him propped up against the wall, and Leia had been right: his ragged breathing eased considerably.

“What are you lugging along in that armour, it’s like you’re made of solid metal,” she panted.

As per usual when she said or asked something that hit a little too close to home, Vader pointedly ignored her.

“What?” she said defensively at Luke’s scolding gaze. “It’s true,” but she laid off.

Sometimes she didn’t understand Luke at all. Her _twin brother_ – and clearly her better half. The both of them had done nothing but suffer by Vader’s hands. Their sire had never been a father to either of them, far from it, and yet Luke was nothing but kind and compassionate to him, seemed completely accepting of their relationship, and she caught him staring at Vader’s face with something akin to wonder in his eyes several times. Kill the beast with kindness, yes, but Luke was too nice for that. It was genuine. And Vader studied his son eagerly in return, and her too. It made her feel sick.

***

Krennic would visit once or twice a week, unless, so they assumed, he was tied up elsewhere with Imperial business. He was self-congratulatory, boasted of his power over them, tried to bait them at any given time, and seemed to enjoy having them in his clutches all too much. But he had a fragile ego and needed it boosted constantly, and Vader enjoyed needling him.

“Let’s play a game,” Krennic announced as he entered their cell.

Vader adopted that mocking look he seemed to reserve for the former director. It never failed to trigger him.

“Each of you gets to pick one of you who gets to survive. If you all choose the same person, I promise to let them go.”

“Just get it over with,” Vader said in a bored tone. “We all know you would never let us go. When I get out of here, I’ll kill you with my bare hands and string up your corpse by your own entrails where everyone can see it. You will be remembered as a coward. A nobody.”

Something ugly twisted Krennic’s face. “I am not a violent man by nature, but you bring out the worst in me. I might just punch that ugly face of yours.”

Vader offered him a rather frightening smirk in response, the effect enhanced by the distortion caused by the scars. “Do you have it in you, _director_?” he asked, in a challenging tone that seemed to belong to a much younger man than Vader was, a healthier man, the type that would jump into the fray without a second thought and even while the odds were against him, probably come out victorious – and if he didn’t, laugh about it and not think twice about doing exactly the same the next time.

But even though Vader wasn’t a younger man and looked rather pitiable, a barely human wreck propped up against the wall for support, it didn’t miss its effect on Krennic, who stepped forwards. Vader only laughed at his attempts to assume a threatening posture, which was the last drop, and he swung. His fist hit Vader right in the middle of his face. Krennic’s usually composed expression was distorted by fury, but he looked at his own fist in surprise, as if he couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. Leia and Luke flinched at the dull crack that resounded when the back of Vader’s head hit the wall, but the old Sith didn’t seem affected at all; he only laughed.

“Was that it?” he wheezed. “The best you can do?” He could barely speak, couldn’t even sit up on his own, but he looked at Krennic unblinkingly and there was steel in his eyes. “Come on… You can do better.”

And caught in Vader’s unflinching gaze the ex-director looked entirely lost for just a second, the hand he’d used to hit Vader still lifted, but now without purpose. It didn’t last long, because unadulterated fury took over again, and he took another swing at Vader’s face, and another, and another, but he never managed to beat that strange smile out of the Sith, not even when he slowly slid down the wall under the force of Krennic’s blows. Krennic stopped, and as quickly as it had come, the anger disappeared and he looked imperturbable again, if a little less composed and not quite as immaculately groomed. Without another word he turned on his heel and left.

When the heavy door had slammed shut, Luke and Leia looked at each other for just a second, just a moment of shared shocked silence at their sire’s ridiculous, risky behaviour.

“Are you _insane_?” Leia shouted, even as she moved to his side and helped her more tactful brother by grabbing Vader by his other shoulder.

Together they hoisted him up, until he sat up again. He’d probably bruise spectacularly, and he was bleeding profusely from his nose, which wouldn’t be a real problem for any other man except for the usual discomfort, but was quite the hazard for someone dependant on externally supplied oxygen.

He didn’t smile anymore.

“Father, are you alright?” Luke asked worriedly.

“What were you thinking?” Leia interjected, but when Vader lifted a hand she immediately grew quiet.

“He enjoyed it, didn’t he?” Vader asked quietly.

The twins looked at each other at this strange question, but Vader hadn’t finished.

“He did. As long as he does… as we _entertain_ him… you are safe. As long as we… give him what he wants. You’re safe.”

Oh.

“You’re bleeding,” Leia said crisply, but she’d placed a hand on his bicep, perhaps she even squeezed briefly. “We need to clean that up somewhat, unless you want to choke on your own blood. I have to take the mask off for just a moment. Can you manage?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” and for a moment she considered her own attire, before reaching underneath her jacket and forcibly ripping off a part of her undershirt. “Okay. On the count of three, alright? Three… Two… One…”

And she lifted the mask off his face, swiftly pressed the makeshift bandage against his nose and dabbed the area around it to catch most of the blood. She pressed the mask against his lower face every couple of seconds, allowing him to draw in a couple of breaths. It was all too strange, to be nursing Darth Vader, to feel a stab of guilt at how he took this damage for her sake, how in a few days everything had shifted, how – she’d missed a spot, just real quick, fold the cloth in half to have a clean corner available – how she suddenly had a birth father with a name and a face and against all odds, a little late in his life but still, a protective streak, and a brother too – oops. If she didn’t use the mask right now she wasn’t going to have a birth father for much longer – and then suddenly it struck her.

It was alright as long as they were stuck in here, just the three of them, wondering about their survival, forced together as a team. But if they did get out, there was reality to reckon with, and would reality bend at all to accommodate this new truth that connected them? If they did get out of here alive, who would survive? Because the last princess of Alderaan and the last Jedi couldn’t coexist with a Sith Lord without picking up arms against each other. She’d known that all along, of course, but – _cognitive dissonance_. For now she took great pains to stop Vader’s rather severe nosebleed, and that was all that mattered in this moment. Luke, sitting next to her, had at some point grabbed Vader’s hand and _he was such a bleeding heart_ , she thought. _Bad pun. Still funny._ If Vader noticed the slight, grim smile forming on her face, he didn’t comment on it. If anything, he seemed embarrassed at having his two adult children sitting on either side of him, tending to his wounds. He’d just have to deal with it. None of this was normal, after all.

***

“Krennic said he got all the Skywalkers now. So I guess that means we don’t have another mysterious sibling gallivanting around the galaxy somewhere? Or a mother?”

Vader briefly shook his head.

“You know what this means, right? He’s coming for us sooner rather than later. The others always died too,” Leia stated matter of factly, looking sombrely at her newfound twin.

“He… will try,” Vader said, but all attempts at striking a threatening tone were completely undermined by the extreme pallor of his face, and the visible effort it took him to simply draw in enough oxygen.

“Right,” Leia muttered. “Look, you’re not exactly in any shape or state to do something here. What are you going to do? Wheeze them to death?”

“Leia!”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Mask,” Vader interjected the onset of an argument between his children. “Get me the mask and–” He was too winded to continue, but they’d both gotten the gist.

“We can’t reach it,” Leia said exaggeratedly slowly, in a tone of voice as if explaining something obvious to an extremely dull witted individual.

Luke didn’t even comment on her vitriolic behaviour this time anymore. A despondent silence fell over the cell’s occupants again.

“Can’t you use to Force to escape?” Leia asked, but it was grasping at straws, because Vader’s lack of action had already given her all the answers she needed days ago.

Luke shook his head and pointed at the strange cuffs around his wrists. “Force inhibitors. Can’t even feel it. Just like father,” but suddenly he got this faraway look in his eyes as he stared at Vader’s unreachable mask and helmet. “ _We_ can’t,” he said suddenly.

“Luke,” Vader interrupted him urgently.

Her twin looked at his father questioningly, surprised at the sudden interruption, until he noticed the subtle gestures he made with his right hand. _Oh_. It was the sign language used by Alliance field operatives, and Leia should be worried their enemy knew them, but right now Vader’s gamble that his son would be familiar with them had proven correct and was in their best interests. Camera’s. Hidden camera’s. They were being watched. And that made sense, Krennic would want to keep an eye on his latest favourite playthings.

But Luke had found a way out, she could see it in how he held himself a little straighter and the calm in his eyes, and by the way he looked at her he needed her to figure it out too. If he could, so could she. His eyes pointedly flitted down to his wrists first, then to Vader’s. They were all bound by the same shackles, the same chains. Except that she didn’t wear the glowing bracelet the two men did. But that was madness, a pointless exercise. She didn’t have the Force, and even if she did, she had no idea how, they couldn’t possibly expect her to… do any of those fancy tricks that seemed second nature to the both of them.

Vader had followed their exchange intently, and perhaps he saw some of the panic she felt in her eyes. “You are afraid,” he said softly.

“Damn right I am! One look at you gives me more than enough reason to be afraid!” she burst out.

“You needn’t be. Look at Luke. Think of your brother. Be calm. There is all the time in the world.”

But there wasn’t. If Krennic was watching right now, he would know they were up to something, and he originally might not have planned to do so already, but he’d end them straight away, not wanting to risk their escape. If only she hadn’t, hadn’t asked such a _stupid_ thing, none of this would be happening.

“Calm,” Vader said again, and even now his voice was authoritative, but perhaps that was also because a part of her whispered he knew what he was talking about, and if ever there was a time to trust him and rely on him, it was now.

“I don’t know how,” she said, close to tears, because they counted on her, and now she was really afraid. Afraid to disappoint them, and the icy hand that grabbed her heart squeezed just a little tighter as she thought of Luke dead, because she failed in a task five year old Jedi kids in the Republic used to be able to perform effortlessly.

“Yes, you do,” Vader sternly interrupted the flow of her thoughts. “Because you _really_ , really want it. Close your eyes. Very good… There is nothing else you want more. Think of how strongly you want it. You need it. So… Now… _You simply take it_.”

Inside her, there was a gaping black hole that grew with every passing second she was wasting. There was Krennic cursing loudly at his potential oversight, getting up and hurrying towards them, and he was not alone, no, nameless faces accompanied him, marching in step behind him. The tangles of her dread crawled up from that black hole, awoken by her acute fear of death.

“ _Take it_!”

Something in her ignited, something cold, fierce, strong, scaldingly hot, that left her reeling, that smothered the fear and left only its weak echo behind. She gasped, and when she opened her eyes the mask came hurtling towards her at such a speed it nearly knocked her out. She stared at it a little too long, breathing hard and utterly confused, before Luke gently pried it out of her hands.

“The bottom first,” Vader rasped, as Luke approached him with that hated thing in his hands, and not a second later, there it was: the steady sound of Darth Vader’s mechanised breathing that could chill a man to the bone. For once it didn’t scare her, because the thought at Krennic positively peeing his pants at hearing that sound approach him made her feel oddly joyful. The adrenaline that had rushed forth when she’d summoned the mask sang around in her blood.

Vader took a few moments to recover, to let the oxygen levels in his blood reach acceptable levels again, to regain his unnatural strength -– _they were running out of time_ – before he reached out for the glowing bracelet around his wrist and pulled. Leia winced at the thought of how that would probably shatter an ordinary flesh hand, but he simply tore it free with a sickening screech of metal and crunch of… other bits. As if it was nothing. He stood up slowly to his formidable, towering height. With a wave of his hand their chains fell off, two quick strides took him to the helmet, and he lifted it almost reverently. It sealed to the mask with a hiss. Next, the door flew off its hinges like it was made of cardboard, crashing loudly into the corridor. Inwardly she sighed at the unnecessary display. If their escape attempt had remained undetected so far, it had definitely been noticed now. Only later she’d understand why he did it. Vader wanted his prey to know he was coming.

“Come,” he said in that deep bass, so unlike his real voice.

“Father,” Luke stopped him, meaningfully lifting his own still braceleted wrist.

Vader stopped in his tracks. The mask gave nothing away, but his hesitation had the twins holding their breath. And then the moment was broken as he walked to his son and used both hands to simply rip the bracelet in half, his invisible gaze lingering a meaningful moment longer than necessary on Luke.

“And now… Krennic will die,” he stated ominously.

“We do have courts for that,” Luke said wearily.

" _I_ am the court," Vader simply responded. 

“Well…” Leia said thoughtfully. “We _are_ in the middle of a war. No one’s got time for that. And if pops here wants to deliver his own special brand of justice, who are we to stand in the way. He is after all the second highest representative of a sitting government here present. Even if it is an illegitimate one,” that last part she’d muttered.

Both Luke and Vader looked up at her with something flashing between surprise and a certain wariness.

“What? All I’m saying is, _we_ don’t have the authority here, _brother_. And there’s hardly anything we can do to stop him.” She sounded a little too pleased with herself.

“Enough delay,” Vader said. He strode purposefully through the maze of corridors, seemingly knowing exactly where to go while they jogged after him. He probably did know, she reflected. Now she had a name for it, she realised what it was that had felt off about him as she’d first entered that cell: the Force, or rather, the lack of it, that vibrantly dark aura that lay coiled around him, ready to spring. A brewing storm that taunted her, a cyclone that would effortlessly pick her up and take her with it. Perhaps if she closed her eyes –

– she could feel his presence. The hunt was almost at an end.

The twins almost ran into him when he stopped abruptly.

“He tried to lock it from the inside,” Vader said with dark amusement. Technicalities that like didn’t stop him, and the door opened soundlessly at a wave of his hand. “You will stay here.”

Inside: Krennic, back pressed against the wall. And the thing Vader had been looking for: his lightsaber. He summoned it to him and ignited it, the steady thrum music to his ears, an elegant extension of his constrained bloodlust.

“No… Impossible,” Krennic murmured, as if trying to convince himself. “The princess… she isn’t even trained. She is not… a Jedi.”

“You are correct. She is not,” Vader intoned with dark satisfaction. “She is my daughter.”

Krennic had attempted to look intimidating, to command respect from his victims, to be feared and be remembered. But men like him paled instantly next to Vader, who did not have to try, because he could summon horror with a flick of his finger. Leia couldn’t look away as his tall frame advanced on Krennic, dwarfing the former director. The natural order had been restored again.

“Are you afraid?” Vader inquired mildly, as he gripped the lightsaber with both hands and slightly raised it.

“Y-yes,” Krennic said, swallowing, looking up at the Dark Lord’s mask. He might have seen the face underneath the past few days, but it was hard to remember when pinned down by the empty gaze of the mask, the crimson plasma glow illuminating the harsh angles, just one more retelling of the myth that was Darth Vader.

“Good,” he rumbled, and then he slashed the sword, and took a hand. The director’s scream was blood curdling. Vader stoically waited till it stopped, before he took the other, and then he didn’t hold back anymore.

Leia turned away as Vader was a flurry of red, leaving carbon scores and bits and pieces best not too closely looked at all over the room. She put an arm around her brother and together they walked down the corridor.

“He’s completely slicing him up,” she said, "As in, in tiny, tiny parts."

“Hmm,” Luke hummed in response. “I wish he didn’t but… Yeah…”

“Krennic kind of had it coming. And _he’s_ , well, still Darth Vader. I guess he had to work off some steam.”

“Yes,” and then even Luke, her always so serious and light-hearted dearest friend, managed a slight smile at the rather horrific yet completely absurd tableau they left behind. “Sister.”

“Brother.”

They walked on in silence for a while, too much had happened these past few days they needed to let sink in. It didn’t take long before their dark father had caught up with them, his aura pulsing contentedly. He led them to the hangar, only the sound of his breathing and heavy footfalls accompanied them.

"Couldn't you have thought of the Force thing days ago?" Leia asked challengingly once they’d reached their destination. She only came up to his chest, but with her hands on her hips and staring up at him unflinchingly, she looked like a force of nature herself.

"Perhaps I wanted to see my children together for once," he answered calmly.

"You risked both our lives for that?" she cried out in disbelief.

"I never doubted either of you."

“Will you let us go now?” 

“Why would I do that?”

“What else can you do? Hand us over to the Emperor? Lock us up forever? Because we’ll never stop fighting your autocratic tendencies, you must know that. Kill us?”

He didn’t answer, and she knew she’d won. He’d made his decision when he released Luke from the Force inhibitor, whether he’d been aware of it himself at the time or not. But there was something else weighing on her mind. It would eat away at her if she didn’t ask, and she couldn’t entirely trust Vader to tell her the truth, but there was no one else who could answer to begin with.

“Back when I did it, you know, the mask… Did I use… the right kind of Force?”

This time his silence merely meant he needed to think it over. “You did what you needed to do,” he offered eventually.

“But did I do it the right way?”

“Was there any other way at the time?”

“I don’t know,” she said miserably.

“You did the right thing. One act of uncontrolled telepathy will not damn you. Damnation is a choice you make. And when you’re at that crossroads, you will know,” he said gravely.

Well. That was unexpectedly deep. And slightly disturbing, the way he spoke of damnation.

“How did he get you, by the way? I’ve been wondering about that all the time,” she blurted out.

Again he didn’t reply for several moments, but then he stepped closer to her, forcing her to crane her neck. “Very well, my daughter. I will tell you. A strong enough electromagnetic pulse works instantly. I was caught unaware. Make it strong enough, and its effects are irreversible.”

She felt a blush creeping up her neck under his heavy stare, before he abruptly turned to Luke, who looked rattled at their exchange. “You will take care of her.” It was a statement.

“She looks out for me, mostly,” Luke smiled slightly. “It was… good to see you, father,” he added clumsily.

Vader nodded sharply. “Indeed.” He put a heavy hand briefly on Luke’s shoulder. Then he turned away and swiftly marched off towards the small collection of ships occupying the hangar.

“Well, that was emotional according to his standards, one blubbering mess,” Leia said dryly at her brother’s slightly bewildered look at Vader’s sudden departure.

“You’ll have to tell me everything that happened the past few days,” he replied.

“And you me. How you ended up here. And the Alliance, do they know?”

“Hey Leia? I’m glad, you know. With you as my sister. Even if you’re a handful,”

She threw him her dirtiest look. “Me too, flyboy. Now let’s go, before we get unwanted company.”

She let Luke pick out a ship while she stared at Vader’s leaving shuttle, that was growing smaller very fast. Huffing, she boarded Luke’s craft of choice, and during the long hyperspace trek, both of them too tired to talk, her thoughts flitted back to how Vader had unexpectedly answered that loaded question, and expressly given her the key to end him. And then she realised what that meant: the old bastard had given her a choice. She cursed vehemently.

**Author's Note:**

> I more or less randomly picked the two featured planet names, instead of devoting hours of research into their locations and travel times and ecosystems... (Although I bet most habitable worlds could and do feature Ancient Prison Cells TM)
> 
> Synth tread is something I came up with.
> 
> Thiohexide is not mentioned as an official Star Wars torture drug on Wookieepedia, but I'm fairly sure I came across that name at some point - I suspect in a fic. If someone knows where I could have read that, please do let me know! It's also entirely possible my brain randomly came up with it, or confused it with the real life chemical component of the same name for reasons I will probably never find out.
> 
> Thank you to you who got me back into writing. You know who you are, but you do not know how grateful I am or how much I needed this <3 You're a wonderful bunch.


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